1 definition by Gineska Ferras
Cubans are a race of people who do not think they are the best WE KNOW WE ARE THE BEST!! We usually stick to our own. We have tried to carry a civilized conversation with someone out of our race and long behold you remind us why we do not socialize outside of work with people out of our race. We are happy in love with our island people. We DO HATE fidel castro. Our elders have million of stories of "The Golden Years" It's like being born with spices in your blood,
And being named after your papi's favorite cigars.
It's getting diamonds pierced in you ears at five days,
Wearing Royal Violets perfume everyday until age 15,
And throwing a 15th birthday party that cost your parents
more than your first car.
It's loving Marti and hating Castro.
Lighting candles at mass for La Caridad and Celia Cruz.
It's having to kiss every Cuban cheek like you're related.
It's looking European, but feeling Caribbean,
And seething inside while smiling politely when someone asks if you're Puerto Rican.
It's having black beans and plantains with every meal.
Meals at every party, parties for any occasion.
It's serving your skinny uncle piles of lechon on Nochebuena,
While your three hundred pound aunt sips at a mojito.
It's learning to dance salsa from your papi or your abuelito,
And knowing the difference between a guajira and a guaracha.
It's loving the hot, humid air of Miami, and hating hurricanes.
Drinking cortaditos and dealing with chaperones.
It's talking too fast in English and running your words together in Spanish. And being madly in love...
With a restless island you haven't seen in many many many years.
And being named after your papi's favorite cigars.
It's getting diamonds pierced in you ears at five days,
Wearing Royal Violets perfume everyday until age 15,
And throwing a 15th birthday party that cost your parents
more than your first car.
It's loving Marti and hating Castro.
Lighting candles at mass for La Caridad and Celia Cruz.
It's having to kiss every Cuban cheek like you're related.
It's looking European, but feeling Caribbean,
And seething inside while smiling politely when someone asks if you're Puerto Rican.
It's having black beans and plantains with every meal.
Meals at every party, parties for any occasion.
It's serving your skinny uncle piles of lechon on Nochebuena,
While your three hundred pound aunt sips at a mojito.
It's learning to dance salsa from your papi or your abuelito,
And knowing the difference between a guajira and a guaracha.
It's loving the hot, humid air of Miami, and hating hurricanes.
Drinking cortaditos and dealing with chaperones.
It's talking too fast in English and running your words together in Spanish. And being madly in love...
With a restless island you haven't seen in many many many years.
by Gineska Ferras November 29, 2005